Learning Curves
by isabenoit
Summary: A history of GSR, from San Francisco in 1999 to...who knows?
1. Prologue

**Learning Curves**

**San Francisco- 1999**

Sara Sidle collected her purse, snatched her keys up from the bedside table and ran down the stairs of the apartment she shared with her friend and co-worker, Kelly.

"Hurry up Sara! We're going to be late for the first lecture of the day!" Kelly yelled.

"I'm coming, keep your pants on, woman!" she yelled back, running out the door.

They rushed into the car and Sara got as far as the end of the drive-way before Kelly realized she'd forgotten her glasses.

"Oh for Pete's sake, hurry! We really, really have to go!" Sara urged.

The conference was going to start in exactly ten minutes.

XXX

Dr. Gilbert Grissom was scheduled to give the first lecture of the day. Introduction to forensic anthropology. Speaking at these conferences always made him nervous, though he couldn't really understand why. He knew the subject matter like the back of his hand and could give the lecture in his sleep, but he could never get used to having an audience. He checked his watch and saw that there were five minutes until the CSIs he would be teaching were going to start filling the seats in the auditorium. He read over his notes quickly and ran his fingers through his hair, something he frequently did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. He inhaled and exhaled rhythmically in an attempt to calm himself down. It worked a little. One of his assistants walked in.

"Hello Dr. Grissom, how are you this morning? Is there anything I can get you?" the short, plump woman asked him.

"I'm fine, Gloria, thanks for asking. I don't really need anything at the moment. I'll let you know if that changes, though," he replied, trying to hide his nervousness.

Gloria nodded, put a hand on his shoulder and smiled.

"You'll be fine, doctor. You've done this countless times," she assured him.

He thanked her, and she left the room. He checked his watch again. Time for the students to come in.

XXX

"Red light, red light!" Kelly cried out.

Sara hit the brakes and the car screeched to a halt.

"Sorry about that," Sara replied sheepishly.

"I'd _like_ to get there in one piece," Kelly teased.

When the two young ladies finally arrived at the building where the conference was being held, they were already five minutes late for the first lecture. They found a spot to park and dashed to the auditorium indicated on their schedule. They weren't eager to sit in for this particular lecture, but attendance was mandatory if they wanted to receive the credit for their continuing education program. They'd both heard that doctor Grissom was dull and nervous when he gave lectures. They sighed and walked into the auditorium.

XXX

Grissom was only slightly distracted by the young women's late arrival. He politely invited them to sit down and asked them to come see him after the lecture so that he could mark them as "present", then moved on with the subject matter.

Halfway through his lecture, Dr Grissom realized that the young blonde with the glasses was nearly falling asleep, while the pretty brunette seemed genuinely interested and was asking challenging, pertinent questions. She intrigued him and he became determined to learn more about her.

XXX

Sara was actually a lot more interested in Dr. Grissom than in what he was teaching; she was hoping that he would be impressed by the questions she was asking him.

After the lecture, Kelly and Sara went up to see Dr. Grissom.

"You'd think they wouldn't need to take attendance at a CSI seminar," Kelly complained.

"You'd think no one would be late at a CSI seminar," Dr. Grissom replied, a smirk on his face.

Kelly blushed.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"Kelly Jones," she replied.

"And yours?" Grissom asked, turning towards Sara.

"Sara Sidle," she answered.

Sara wasn't sure if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but it seemed that Dr. Grissom was paying close attention to her name.

He marked them both as present.

"You asked a lot of pertinent questions, Ms. Sidle. You've followed courses on forensic anthropology before, if I'm not mistaken," he stated.

"You caught me, doctor Grissom," she replied, smiling meekly.

Kelly raised an eyebrow and cleared her throat.

"If you'll excuse us, doctor, we have to get to our next lecture. It starts in five minutes," Kelly stated.

"Of course; I wouldn't want you ladies to be late again. If you'd like to, Ms. Sidle, we can discuss further after you've finished with your lectures for the day," Grissom offered.

"I'd like that very much," she replied.

They set a time and a meeting place, and the two ladies left for their classes.

"Teacher's pet." Kelly teased.

"Oh, shut up," Sara answered, blushing.

XXX

At the end of the day, both Kelly and Sara were wiped out. Kelly was more than ready to call it a night, but Sara was still adamant on meeting Dr. Grissom.

"What are you thinking Sara?" Kelly disapproved.

"What? We're just going to be discussing anthropology. It's not like it's a date, Kel," Sara assured her.

"Yeah, right. I've heard that one before. Just remember that he's, like, twenty years older than you, okay?" Kelly replied.

"Yes, yes. Stop worrying about me. Go home; you look exhausted. Take the car, and I'll take a cab," Sara said.

"Okay, be safe. Don't stay out too late," Kelly cautioned.

"You sound like my mother," Sara chuckled, "now go!"

Sara headed off to find Dr. Grissom. She was surprised at how fast she had taken a liking to him, because she was usually more reserved and she'd never really been smitten by an older man before. _Not that this is a date, or anything_, Sara thought.

Grissom was already waiting for her with two cups of coffee.

They found a place to sit, and he handed her a cup with some creamers and a few packets of sweetener.

"I didn't know what you took in your coffee," he shrugged apologetically.

She thanked him for the coffee, and after a few minutes of silence, they began talking. The conversation flowed quite easily between them, and before they knew it, two hours had passed.

"Oh, shoot. Look at the time! I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, Dr. Grissom, but I have to be up pretty early tomorrow morning," Sara explained.

"Not at all. I'm the one who should be apologizing. Allow me to drive you home," he offered.

Sara gratefully accepted his offer.

Once they'd arrived in front of her apartment building, Grissom began to say goodbye.

"I enjoyed the time we spent together tonight, Sara," Grissom told her.

"I enjoyed it too. If it's not too forward, may I ask how much longer you're going to be in San Francisco?" she asked him.

"Three days, then I head back to Vegas," he replied.

Sara nodded, pensive.

"I'd like to keep in touch, though," he added.

"I'd like that as well," she replied.

They exchanged information, and Sara smiled at him as she got out of the car.

Grissom felt he had only begun to elucidate the mystery that was Sara Sidle. Something about the way she carried herself betrayed a painful past and he wanted to know more about what lurked beneath the surface.

Sara felt a certain attraction to the doctor. She found him handsome, and she enjoyed their discussions.

When Sara walked into the apartment, Kelly was still awake.

"What are you still doing up? It's nearly midnight!" Sara exclaimed.

"I wanted to hear about your date," Kelly answered, a sly smile on her face.

"First of all, it wasn't a date. Second, we had a very agreeable conversation over coffee," Sara replied, a little flustered.

"You got a number, didn't you?" Kelly asked, that same sly smile on her face.

"Yes. Yes I did. Now let's get to sleep. We have to be up early tomorrow." Sara replied, embarrassed.

XXX

**About one year later**

"Hello?" Sara groggily answered the phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you." Grissom apologized.

"It's fine, Grissom. I was just taking a little nap," she replied.

"How have you been?" he asked tentatively.

"Just fine. Really. Yourself?" she asked in return.

"Sara, I know you took a leave of absence from work. The San Francisco lab told me you didn't specify when you'd be back," he said, sounding concerned.

"I just needed some time off," she replied hesitantly.

"They told me what happened to Kelly," he said seriously.

"I don't want to talk about that right now," she snapped.

"I understand. Unfortunately, this isn't a social call. I have a bit of a problem with one of my CSIs," he announced.

"Okay…" she replied, urging him to continue.

"I need you in Vegas. Just for a few days, the time it takes for you to interview my CSI and write up a report. I need someone unbiased. I'm asking you because I trust you," he explained.

There was a long pause as she thought about it.

"Alright. Yes. I'll come over for a few days. I need a bit of a change," she finally answered.

"Thanks, Sara. I'm really sorry for your loss," he replied earnestly.

She hung up.

Sara closed her eyes. Lately, she'd been trying to avoid thinking too much about it. Kelly had been her best friend. The apartment they shared now seemed too big, too empty. Sara could barely bring herself to get out of bed—let alone go to work—for the past three months, and though it hadn't surprised her, it had stung when she'd been passed up for a promotion to CSI level 3. She just couldn't stop replaying the events of that night over and over again in her mind.

Sara had needed the car, because she'd been out on a date with a loser a co-worker had set her up with. Though she was surprised to see that Kelly hadn't returned from work, she hadn't been alarmed at the time. She'd figured that her friend had been called out to an urgent crime scene and was working overtime. Sara had simply gone to sleep, expecting Kelly to wake her up when she was back. Early the next morning, Kelly still hadn't come back home, and Sara had become increasingly worried. She tried calling Kelly's cell phone, but it went straight to voicemail, which was unusual, as she always had her cell phone turned on. Just as she was debating whether or not she should call the lab to see if Kelly really was there, Sara's phone had rung, and she had immediately known that the news wasn't good.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hi Sara, it's Pat," said her supervisor. He sounded tense.

"That's never good," she replied.

"Look, uh…There's not really an easy way to say this. Kelly…Well, I guess she was walking back to your apartment when she was accosted by an armed man. He robbed her, but I guess it wasn't enough. He stabbed her multiple times. She's at Pacific Heights hospital," he announced, his voice breaking.

"I'm on my way," Sara had replied, distressed.

"Sara, wait—" he began.

Sara had hung up before he could finish. She'd sprinted out the door, her heart pounding so hard she could feel practically feel it in her head. She'd driven as fast as possible to get to the hospital and had run into the waiting room. Pat was already there. His brow was furrowed. That was a very, very bad sign, and at that moment, Sara had simply known. Kelly was gone. Pat had shaken his head, and Sara shoulders had slumped, her legs had suddenly felt heavy, and she'd needed to sit down. What happened after that was kind of hazy, though she distinctly remembered the emotions she had felt.

Thinking back to that day suddenly made them all those emotions real again. Sorrow, pain, hatred, anger, bitterness, helplessness, and worst of all, guilt. She felt guilty because, if she hadn't had the car, Kelly wouldn't have had to walk back home. She'd told this to the departmental psychologist, whom she had been forced to see, and he had just told her that it would pass, and that she shouldn't feel responsible for what had happened. Needless to say, she's stopped seeing him as soon as her mandatory sessions were completed.

Now, Sara was staring at the ceiling, thinking about Grissom's offer. A few days away from this apartment, where she was constantly reminded that someone she'd cared so much about was now gone forever, might do her some good. She realized that Grissom's call couldn't have come at a better time.

XXX

"They told me I could find you here," Sara said.

Grissom looked up from his microscope, smiling.

"Sara Sidle! You wouldn't believe how glad I am to see you. Have you been briefed yet?" he asked her.

"No. Your supervisor—Brass, I think his name is—told me you'd fill me in," she replied, slightly confused.

"Of course he did", Grissom said, rolling his eyes. "We haven't exactly been seeing eye-to-eye on this case. Basically, what happened is that one of my CSIs, Warrick Brown, left a rookie, Holly Gribbs, alone at a crime scene. She was shot when the suspect returned to the scene."

"So, you want me to interview CSI Brown and find out if he had a valid reason to leave the crime scene," she concluded.

"Exactly," he stated, nodding.

Sara pursed her lips.

"Where is Holly Gribbs right now?" she asked.

"In surgery. It's not looking good," he replied gravely.

"And Warrick?" Sara inquired.

"Try one of the casinos on the strip. I don't know where else he'd be," Grissom answered.

"Okay. I'll, uh…just drop a few things off and I'll be on my way, then," she assured him.

There was a fierce determination on her face.

"Just, please don't destroy him. Do this objectively," he pleaded.

"No promises," she replied, rather coldly.

As he watched her leave the room, he silently wondered what exactly he'd unleashed on Warrick.

XXX

Sara spotted Warrick Brown at a blackjack table in the first casino she tried.

"Warrick Brown? I'm Sara Sidle," she introduced herself, extending her hand.

He shook her hand, suspicion furrowing his brow.

"I'm assuming Grissom has already explained why I'm here. I just need to ask you a few questions," she stated.

He sighed and followed her away from the table.

"So, I understand that you have a bit of a gambling problem. It's football season right now, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes it is. I don't see what that has to do with anything," he answered, sounding defensive.

His demeanour told her she'd struck a nerve.

"I think it has everything do with this case. A guy like you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to bet. Is it just a coincidence that there happened to be a game on the day of the incident?" she asked pointedly.

"I don't think these are exactly the questions Grissom had in mind," Warrick snapped.

Sara was about to reply when her cell phone rang. The caller ID indicated it was Grissom. She excused herself and turned her back to Warrick.

"I'm interviewing him right now, Grissom," she assured him.

"That's fine, but there's something you should know. Holly Gribbs just died on the operating table," he informed her.

Sara sighed.

"I'll let him know," she replied simply.

She hung up.

Sara turned back to face Warrick. She wanted to scream at him and tell him that it was entirely his fault that yet another innocent life was lost, and that he should hate himself for it. She inhaled deeply.

"Look, I need you to cut the crap right now. Where did you go when you left Holly Gribbs alone at the crime scene?" she asked tersely.

"Who was that and what did they tell you?" he asked in turn, ignoring her question.

"That was Grissom. Since you asked, he told me that Holly Gribbs died on the operating room table," she answered.

Warrick stared at her incredulously, unable to say a word. After a moment, he just shook his head. Sara almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

"Now will you tell me where you went, Warrick?" she asked him for the third time.

XXX

"Hey, Sara, in here!" Grissom called to her from his office, waving his hands.

Sara walked in and took a seat in the chair in front of his desk.

He motioned for her to sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

"Nice," she commented as she spotted a pig foetus.

"My irradiated foetal pig. He gets a lot of attention." Grissom said, smiling a little. "Now, Sara, I called you in here to ask you something important."

"Okay…" Sara replied hesitantly.

"Well, I hope this isn't presumptuous of me, but we're a member short on our team. I was wondering if you'd be interested in working here," he stated.

"Shouldn't you clear it with Brass first?" she asked.

"Uh…he got transferred back to homicide. Long story short, I'm the graveyard-shift supervisor now," he informed her.

Sara thought about it. What did she have left in San Francisco? An apartment that carried too many memories which she really hadn't been able to consider her home for the past three months. She didn't even really think she'd ever be comfortable working in the San Francisco crime lab again. In the end, there really wasn't anything left for her. But was Las Vegas any different? Things would already be awkward within the team, because she had investigated Warrick. After much deliberation, Sara came to the conclusion that she had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Perhaps most importantly, she'd be working with Grissom. Though her feelings had somewhat diminished with time and distance, she still considered him a good friend and figured it would at least be a learning experience.

"I'm in," she finally answered.

"Great!" Grissom exclaimed, a child-like grin on his face. "I'll introduce you to the rest of the team. Don't worry; I don't need you to start for another couple of weeks, so it'll give you a bit of time to settle in. You'll _love_ Vegas," he assured her.

Sara was a bit too flustered to respond. She was already wondering how she was going to manage to find an apartment in Vegas and move her things from San Francisco to Vegas, within two weeks.


	2. Chapter 1

Sara was just about to leave the hotel room where she'd been staying for the past week when her cellphone rang. The caller ID indicated it was from Grissom. She sighed.

"Grissom, I'm just about to leave to go see an apartment," Sara said.

"That's great, but how much longer do you think it'll take for you to find somewhere to stay?" he asked.

"Uh, Grissom, I've only been in the city for one week. You've got to give me some time," she replied.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just that the team is one member short, and most of us are maxed out on overtime for the month. I'm in a jam," he said.

"Okay, uh…maybe after I go see this apartment, I can swing by. No promises, though," she replied.

"Thanks. Hope this apartment hunt pans out. I'll see you later," he said.

He hung up.

Sara sighed. This was the third such call in the past week that she had received from Grissom. She couldn't believe that he didn't understand that it was impossible to just magically find an apartment that she could afford in Las Vegas. There was still the matter of bringing her belongings over from San Francisco and she also needed to get a car. She was thinking of leasing rather than buying at the moment.

The only piece of good news Sara had received was that her apartment in San Francisco had been sold and that she'd gotten exactly the price she was asking for. She checked her watch and saw that she was about to miss the bus. She rushed out of the room and ran the block and a half to the bus stop, but she was too late. _Great. Thanks, Grissom_, she thought. She'd have to wait twenty minutes for the next one.

XXX

"Sorry I'm late. I missed the bus," Sara explained.

"No worries. I'm here pretty much all day anyways," replied the landlord, smiling.

He showed Sara up to the third floor. Surprisingly, the stairwells seemed generally clean and didn't smell of urine. Some of the apartment buildings she'd looked at earlier still had blood in the stairwells. They reached the third floor, and he directed her to the third door on the right, apartment 303.

"Here it is. Owner moved out a couple days ago. Should be clean and empty," the landlord assured her.

Sara raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised that the landlord hadn't checked the apartment before showing it to her. Luckily, there were no unpleasant surprises.

The apartment was empty, and relatively clean. The walls were painted a stark white, the hardwood floor was in good condition and there was a sliding door leading to a balcony. Sara stepped out onto it. The railing seemed secure, and the balcony was solid. She was already imagining what it would look like with a few plants and a comfortable chair to read in. She nodded, smiled and walked back into the apartment. She considered the size of the living room. It was just big enough for a television, a couch and a couple of bookcases. The apartment had one bedroom and one and a half bathrooms. The kitchen was small, but had more than enough storage space for one person. It was pretty much exactly what she was looking for and the rent was in the right price range.

"This place is perfect for me. I'll take it," Sara said.

"Great! When would you like to move in?" the landlord asked.

"As soon as possible," replied Sara.

XXX

Grissom looked up from his computer screen to see Sara standing in the doorway to his office.

" Hey Sara, I didn't expect you here so soon!"

"I found an apartment. My acquaintance in San Francisco assures me my belongings are packed up and ready to be shipped tomorrow. They should be here in two days, so I'll be moving in to my apartment then . I should be ready to start working in three days, Grissom," she told him.

"That's good news. Now…why are you here?" he asked.

"Uh…well, mostly because you called me three times in the past week, telling me you wanted me to work. I sort of got the impression that you needed my help," she replied.

"Oh…oh, right! I'll find something for you to do," he said.

Sara frowned.

"Why did you want me here so badly if you don't even have a case for me to work on?" Sara asked.

Grissom was spared from answering, because at that moment, a young man with brown hair and a strong build walked into his office. The man didn't notice Sara, as he was looking over some papers.

"Hey, Grissom, can I get a hand with something? I'm sort of swamped with evidence right now," he said.

"This is Nick Stokes. He transferred from Dallas two years ago," Grissom said.

"Hey, you must be Sara Sidle. I've heard a lot about you," Nick said, extending his hand.

Sara shot a sideways glance to Grissom.

"Uh, yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you, Nick," she replied, shaking his hand.

"Nick, brief Sara on your case. Get her to help you process the evidence. If you still need help, come see me," Grissom dictated.

"Will do; Come with me, I'll show you around, Sara," Nick replied, a broad grin lighting up his face.

Sara couldn't help but smile as well. He seemed like a genuinely friendly guy, and she found him kind of cute. His southern drawl definitely worked to his advantage.

"Sure. Where to?" she asked.

"Ballistics," he answered.

She followed him through the lab, taking in the harshly lit halls, the glass walls, the endless counters lined with microscopes, the huge backlit tables full of evidence. It was very different from what she had been used to at the San Francisco lab.

They reached a portion of the lab where Sara could see large tanks of water and a range set up with targets. A tall man with curly brown hair was standing in front of one of the targets, wearing eye and ear protection. He was testing a semi-automatic pistol. A red light indicated that the range was active and warned others not to enter.

"That's Bobby Dawson. Nice guy. A little territorial about his ballistics lab though, so make sure you don't mess things up when we go in." Nick said.

"I'll, uh…keep that in mind. Is that our weapon he's testing?" she asked.

"Yeah. Let's stick around, see if he can get us any information," Nick said.

His pager beeped. He checked it, sighed, and shook his head.

"Apparently Francis Crick wants us in his DNA lab," Nick informed Sara.

"Uh… Nick... sorry to disappoint you, but Francis Crick lives in San Diego, and he's retired,"

"Greg Sanders, our DNA analyst, likes to play games like that, come on, follow me," Nick said.

He led her to yet another lab, where a very young man with spiked hair with bleached tips was writing out the molecular structure of a fairly complex chemical compound on the glass wall.

"Hey Greg, what's up?" asked Nick.

Greg spun around, a wide grin on his face.

"Why hello there; I heard we had a new team member. I'm Greg Sanders," he said in introduction "What's your name, beautiful?"

Sara gave him a mocking smile and shook his outstretched hand.

"Down, boy. I'm Sara Sidle."

Nick cleared his throat.

"So, Greg, why'd you page me?" he asked.

"Oh, I just wanted to meet Sara. I should have your results in a few minutes though," he replied.

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Okay, well, page me whenever you've got the results. Sara, while we're here, why don't I show you the trace lab? It's right across the hall," he said.

"Sure. By the way, Mr. Crick, you're missing a carbon atom. Right there," she said, pointing to his drawing of the compound.

Greg studied it for a moment.

"I knew that. I did. I would've caught that," he said.

Nick and Sara chuckled, and he showed her to the trace lab.

XXX

Once they'd processed all the evidence and had come to a conclusion, they put together their report, and headed over to Grissom's office to present their findings.

When they reached his office, they were surprised to see that he wasn't alone. A pretty, slim woman with pin straight blonde hair was standing behind Grissom, looking over his shoulder at something on the computer. They were both smiling. Sara and Nick looked at each other, puzzled. Grissom looked up from the computer, and turned the monitor so that they could see what was on it. Then he pointed to the woman standing behind him.

"This is Terri Miller. She's one of the best forensic anthropologists in the country,"

"And Canada," added the woman.

"Oh, yes, of course," said Sara. "Your reputation precedes you."

Nick nodded in agreement.

"I've attended a couple of your lectures," he said.

Terri smiled politely, and turned her attention back to the computer screen.

"Dr. Grissom was in need of my expertise. We reconstructed a face, and we're just about to print out a photograph and see if we can identify the victim," she said.

Grissom looked up from the screen again, having realized that there was probably a reason why Sara and Nick were standing in his office at the moment.

"Right, so, how is your case going, Nick? Did Sara help you figure it out?" he asked.

"Yes, we got it. Case closed. We just came by to drop off the report," Nick replied.

He handed over the report; Grissom read it over and nodded.

"Great! Good job, you two. You can clock out early," he said.

"Thanks!" they answered in unison.

They walked out of the office. They were about to split up to go their own way, but Nick called out after Sara, and she stopped to listen to him.

"I was just, uh…wondering if you'd like to go have a few drinks. I know this place where the atmosphere is just great. Besides, I know you don't have a car, I could drop you off afterwards," he offered.

Sara was taken aback by his offer, but she was inclined to accept. Nick was good-looking, nice and pretty funny. Worse came to worse, she'd be having a couple of drinks with a friend.

"Sure. That sounds great, Nick," she answered.

XXX

"Are you already leaving, Terri?" Grissom asked, sounding slightly dejected.

"Not just yet. I leave tomorrow afternoon. Why? Did you need me for something else?"

"No, no, I was actually just wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me," he replied.

Grissom hadn't dated much lately, but he found that Terri Miller was attractive, smart and very sharp-witted. He'd been thinking about asking her out to dinner for a little while now, and he'd finally worked up the courage to do it.

"That would be nice. Aren't you already seeing someone, though?" she asked.

The look of confusion on Grissom's face was so genuine that Terri couldn't help but chuckle.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone Terri. How did you get that impression?" he asked

"Well, it's just the way that you and your co-worker Catherine interact; you sometimes sound like a bickering married couple," Terri answered.

Grissom had to hold back his laughter.

"No, we're just co-workers. Now, about dinner, where would you like to go?" he asked.

"I think I know a place," she answered.

XXX

Nick dropped Sara off in front of her apartment building at around noon.

"I enjoyed myself, Sara," he told her.

"Yeah, I had fun too," she replied.

In all honesty, though, Sara thought of Nick more as a friend than as a romantic interest. He was nice and funny, but she just didn't really see this becoming anything other than a strong friendship.

"Sara, it's okay. I can tell I'm probably more interested in you than you are in me. You're not hard to read," he said

She blushed a little.

"You're a nice guy Nick—"

"—but maybe a little too nice? I get that a lot," he interrupted.

"It's not a bad thing, Nick," she said, winking.

He gave her a half-smile and she got out of the car. She thanked him for the lift and started walking away when he called out to her again.

"Are you going to need some help moving in tomorrow? It's my day off…"

Sara hesitated for a moment because she really didn't want to lead him on, but she found that it really seemed like a genuine offer from a friend. She finally relented.

"Yes, that would be greatly appreciated," she answered.

She told him at what time he could stop by and he drove off. Sara yawned and decided that she'd had enough excitement for one day.

XXX

Grissom parked at McCarran National Airport. He grabbed Terri Miller's luggage, helped her put it in a cart and accompanied her to the gate.

"Terri, I'm really sorry. Soda water should get that wine right out," Grissom said.

"Gil, it's fine, really. It happens," Terri said, shrugging her shoulders.

In a hurry to answer his cellphone, Grissom had knocked over his glass of red wine onto Terri's new dress. Not only had he ruined his date's outfit but he'd had to interrupt their date to go back to work. Terri had consequently decided to take an earlier flight out to Miami, where her next assignment awaited. She thanked Grissom for dinner, gave him a peck on the cheek, and disappeared through the gate, without looking back.

Grissom's cellphone rang. He sighed, and decided he'd better get back to work. He decided against calling Sara or Nick. Warrick would have to do for now.

Sometimes, Grissom really hated his job.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sara walked into the break room of the LVPD Crime Lab. She was about to pull a double shift, and Grissom had just given her a new assignment. She saw a woman crouched down, looking for something in the fridge.

"Catherine Willows?"

The reddish-haired woman turned around to see who was calling out to her.

"Yes, that's me," she said.

"I'm Sara Sidle; Grissom assigned me to work with you,"

"Oh, hi there. You're Grissom's friend from San Francisco, right?" Catherine asked.

"Yes. Uh, how come everyone already seems to know who I am?"

"He talks about you sometimes," she answered, shrugging, "He's called you on a couple of cases we worked together, since until now, we haven't had anyone specializing in materials and elements analysis on our team."

"Oh, okay then," Sara said.

"By the way, have you found a car yet? I'm trying to sell my ex-husband's, and Nick told me you were looking for one." Catherine answered.

Sara tried to hide her embarrassment and tried to figure out why she'd suddenly become the subject of so much discussion.

"Uh, actually, I'm kind of looking to lease," she answered.

"Oh, I see. Well, my offer still stands if you change your mind. Anyways, we'd better get to that crime scene, I suppose."

XXX

The victim was a 5 year old girl. At first blush, there was no evident cause of death; the little girl had apparently died peacefully in her sleep. Captain Jim Brass had informed them that the victim's name was Katrina Daniels and that had gone to bed a little after 8 pm the night before; her mother had found her at 7 that morning when she couldn't wake her to go to school. There was no evidence of forced entry in the girl's bedroom. The windows were still closed and locked. Everything pointed that the killer was part of the household. Once the assistant coroner, David, had given them permission, they began processing the scene.

Sara collected fiber samples from the sheets, the comforter, and the pillow; in short, anything that could have been used to smother the girl. Catherine took multiple photographs from various angles.

"There are several punctures in her arms. They look like they could've been made by an IV," Catherine observed.

"Maybe she was in the hospital recently. Maybe she had a pre-existing condition. The tux screen will give us more information," Sara stated.

Catherine picked up a toy car she had found under the bed.

"Hey Jim, do you know if they have another child?" she asked.

"Yes, they have a son. He's five years old," Jim answered.

"That's interesting," Sara remarked.

Not wanting to prematurely eliminate the possibility that someone had gained access to the house and killed the young girl, Catherine and Sara dusted for prints and used the electrostatic dust print lifter in the event that the killer had left any footprints.

"I'm not finding any shoe impressions, Catherine,"

"Well, I'm lifting a ton of prints. I'll have to get them to Mandy, but they'll probably all come back to family members. I'm becoming more and more certain that someone in this house killed her," she replied.

Sara nodded. Something about this case made her skin crawl.

XXX

Albert "Doc" Robbins greeted the two women

"Patchily hemorrhaging indicates some kind of suffocation. Probably smothering, since I found several fibers in her nasal cavity," he explained.

"I'll see if I can match them to any of the fibers I lifted," Sara said.

"What about these needle marks in her arms? I doubt she was a junkie."

"That is a very good question, Catherine. Tux is still pending, but as far as I can tell, they're from an IV," Doc replied.

"We'll have to subpoena her medical records,"

"That's a good idea. She has multiple fractures of the ulna and the tibia, at various stages of healing. She also has what appear to be burn marks on her left forearm. They're pretty recent," Doc explained.

The two women thanked Doc Robbins and walked out of the morgue.

"Sounds like more than a kid roughhousing to me," Sara observed.

"Are you thinking child abuse?" Catherine asked.

"That's what it looks like. I think we should talk to the father after we see the medical records."

XXX

It took longer than expected to retrieve the medical records. The girl had been seen by many doctors and had been admitted to a few different emergency rooms during her brief life.

"3 months old, she gets rushed to the hospital because she supposedly nearly choked on a piece of chicken she evidently picked up off the floor when she was crawling. At around 6 months, she goes to the hospital with a dislocated shoulder. 18 months, she breaks her leg when she falls down the stairs. 3 years old, she almost drowns in the pool. Counting the 25 or so times she's been admitted to the hospital with vomiting, seizures and blackouts, she's been to the hospital approximately 40 times," Sara read out loud, incredulous.

"It says here that doctors were trying to find a diagnosis, but every time they thought they'd found out what it was, a new symptom presented itself and they had to start from scratch," Catherine added.

"How could they let this go on for so long?" Sara asked.

Catherine shrugged her shoulders.

"Lack of communication between medical specialists and incomplete medical records. They went to see a new doctor every 6 months or so, claiming it was taking too long to find a diagnosis elsewhere," she answered.

"Let's go have that chat with daddy now," Sara suggested, scowling.

XXX

"Mr. Daniels, where were you the day that your daughter almost choked to death on a piece of chicken?" Sara asked.

"I was at home, watching TV," he answered.

"And when she almost drowned in the pool?"

"I was upstairs, taking a nap. My wife was in the kitchen, cooking, and Katrina managed to open the sliding glass door and fell into the pool."

"You know, your alibis are awfully convenient. The only person who can verify them is your wife," Sara stated.

"Watch your tone. My client came here voluntarily to help find his daughter's killer, not to be harassed," Mr. Daniels' lawyer interjected.

"Sir, do you have any idea what might have been causing your daughter's illness?" Catherine asked.

"No, it was weird. It almost happened like clockwork; she'd be fine, and then a few weeks later she'd be nearly dying. I wish we'd found out sooner; maybe she'd still be alive," he answered, tearing up.

Sara observed him silently. His grief seemed sincere; she didn't think he'd done it.

"What about your son, Ryan? Has he had any medical issues at all?" she asked.

"No, he's a healthy boy, thankfully," he answered.

The two ladies thanked him for his cooperation and told him he was free to go for the time being.

"I don't think he did it. If the girl was being drugged, or poisoned, that would be indicative of a woman. There's one thing I can't shake though; something about this case sounds vaguely familiar," said Sara.

"I don't think he did it either. His grief was genuine," Catherine answered.

"What do you think? Time to talk to the mother?"

"Oh, yeah."

XXX

"You are either the luckiest mother ever, or the unluckiest, Mrs Daniels," Sara began.

"I'm sorry, I just lost my daughter. I'm not in the mood for jokes," the mother replied.

"That wasn't a joke, it was a statement. Your daughter has been through a lot. In fact, she's been hospitalized more times in the first four years of her life than most people are in their lifetime," Sara replied.

"She had a sickly disposition. Look, I came here to get my husband. I wasn't expecting to be interrogated. If you have any more questions, you can contact my attorney," the mother said.

The woman got up and left, slamming the door. Catherine snorted.

"Think she's hiding something?"

"Evidently. She couldn't act guiltier if she tried," Sara replied.

She shook her head and scowled.

"It's like I've heard about it before. I'm going to do a bit of research," Sara said, getting up and leaving the room.

"I'll go get that tox report," Catherine said.

XXX

Sara woke up and lifted her head from the textbook she had been reading. She checked her watch. Grissom was standing in front of her; he was holding out a cup of coffee for her to take.

"Thanks," she said, taking it.

"It's Greg's special blue Hawaiian coffee. Expensive stuff, but it's worth it," Grissom informed her.

"Mhm. It tastes great. Does Greg know that you found his stash?" Sara asked.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Uh, what time is it?"

"6 am."

Sara winced.

"Do I have to answer?"

He shrugged.

"Preferably."

"Uh, I've been here about 8 hours."

"Go home, get some sleep. You can wrap up this case next shift, Sara," he said.

"I'm closing in on the mother; my research is almost over. I'll be done in a couple of hours," she promised.

He grabbed a newspaper that someone had left on the table and began reading it.

"Just out of curiosity, what are you looking for?" he asked a few minutes later, not lifting his eyes from the article he was reading.

"Old child abuse cases. The victim has been hospitalized over 40 times, and she's had more fractures and near-death instances than I care to elaborate on," she replied.

He put down the newspaper and took off his glasses; he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"It sounds like a textbook case of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. The parent, usually the mother, likes getting attention from medical professionals, so he or she invents or creates all sorts of scenarios where the child is injured or made out to be ill. It's fairly rare, but cases are well documented," he stated matter-of-factly.

Sara stared at him dumbfounded. If he was right, he'd just saved her hours of work.

"Uh…How did you…never mind. I'm not even going to ask." She said, shaking her head.

Grissom shrugged and said: "I memorized the DSM-IV when it came out."

Sara's eyes widened, then her face turned into a scowl.

"You _memorized _the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders in 1994? Why?"

"For fun," Grissom said, "It's fascinating."

"Er…okay then. I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Sara replied.

Grissom smiled and got ready to leave.

"Wait! I uh…don't know where any of the books are. They're kind of stocked haphazardly," Sara called out.

"I supposed I could have organized the books a bit better. I think the DSM-IV is on the top shelf of the library in my office," he replied.

"Oh, alright then. I'll go get it in a few minutes, if that's okay with you,"

"Sure, go ahead. Look up 'Factitious Disorder by Proxy',"

"Okay, thanks for the tip. I'll bring you my report as soon as the case is solved," she said.

XXX

Sara found the well-thumbed copy of the DSM-IV in Grissom's office and found what she was looking for. The case she was working on was in fact, a case of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, just as Grissom had thought. She put down the book and took a deep breath. She finally realized why the details of this case seemed so familiar. She'd read about a fairly recent case in Florida concerning an 8 year old girl who had undergone over 4 surgeries and had been hospitalized over 200 times. Sara felt sick to her stomach. She went to go find Catherine.

"Hey, I have that tox report," Catherine stated.

"Good, good; anything unusual?" Sara asked.

"Yes. Ricin. More than enough to kill a girl her size. There were also traces of cyclizine."

"Well, cyclizine is a post-operative antiemetic; it could have been administered to stop the girl from throwing up the poison."

"But how would the parents have access to cyclizine?" Catherine asked.

"The hospital. It's possible that one or both of the parents could have gained access to the drug while their daughter was being treated."

"My money's on the mother."

Sara nodded in agreement.

"Let's go nail her," Catherine stated.

XXX

"Hello again, Mrs Daniels. We think we've finally figured out what happened to your daughter," Sara affirmed.

"I already told you, she died from her undiagnosed illness," the mother replied.

"No, she did not. In fact, there was nothing wrong with your daughter. She showed no sign of disease. Our coroner determined that she died because someone suffocated her with her pillow," Catherine said.

"I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Really? I think you know everything about that, and then some," said Sara. "Let me explain to you how I think it played out. While you were pregnant with your daughter, you enjoyed the attention you were getting from medical specialists. When your daughter was born, that feeling was reinforced by your friends and family. However, the novelty wore off after a few weeks, didn't it? You missed the attention. I'm guessing that's when your daughter started getting a lot of, uh, accidents. You know, like when she choked on the chicken, or when she nearly drowned in the pool. How am I doing so far?"

"Interesting story. Too bad it's fiction. My daughter was highly accident-prone, that's all," the mother replied.

"She was also very sickly, apparently. She was hospitalized almost constantly," Sara said.

"Unfortunate? Yes. Criminal? No."

"Ms. Sidle, I highly advise you to guard your tone. My client didn't come here to be harassed," the lawyer warned.

"Fine; but your client is wrong. Child abuse is criminal. So is murder." Sara stated. "I think I'd better finish that story now. A couple of days ago, you were going to try for another 'accident'. I'm not entirely sure what you were planning on saying to cover it up this time, but I do know how you intended to get her hospitalized. You smothered her with a pillow. You misjudged how long you needed to hold the pillow over her face. You held it down too long, and she died."

The mother started clapping smugly.

"Mrs. Daniels, please, refrain from making this harder than it already is," her lawyer pleaded.

She waved off her attorney.

"Bravo. You've figured it out. Can you prove it?" she asked.

"I can prove that you suffered from Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. No jury in the world is going to be able to overlook the similarities between this case and documented cases of the syndrome," Catherine interjected.

"Evidently, this means you can plead insanity. Most likely, you'll be committed to a psychiatric hospital for the rest of your life. Do you have any questions?" Sara asked.

"Nope."

Her lawyer shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

Mrs. Daniels held out her hands, ready for the officer to handcuff her and bring her to booking.

On the other side of the two-way mirror, a very distraught Mr. Daniels stared in disbelief at his wife.

Sara and Catherine quietly waited for the room to be empty.

"You know it's bad when it doesn't even surprise you anymore," Catherine sighed.

Sara looked at her, perplexed.

"I guess I'm just not at that stage yet," she replied, getting up and leaving the interrogation room.

XXX

Grissom came into the locker room to grab his jacket and his car keys before heading home. He saw Sara sitting on the bench in front of her locker, reading a textbook that she'd presumably found while rummaging through his office.

"I thought you and Catherine had closed your case. Why are you still here?" he asked her.

She jumped up, startled.

"Oh, uh, yeah, we did close the case; my report's on your desk. I was, um…re-organizing the textbooks, and this one caught my eye," she answered sheepishly.

"You look tired," he said.

"Yeah, well, I just pulled a double shift," she replied, smiling weakly.

Grissom nodded, but didn't seem convinced.

"I haven't been sleeping well. I'm still getting used to the graveyard shift, that's all," she added.

"I see. Well, I'm going to head out now. I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest,"

"I will."

Sara closed the book, took her bag out of her locker and headed to the parking lot.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sara had been sleeping, dreaming of some ridiculous situation or other involving Nick, Greg, and a heck of a lot of booze, when she was woken up by her phone ringing. She rolled onto her back, still half asleep, and contemplated ignoring it; today was her first day off in two weeks, after all. So far, only one person knew her home phone number; she suddenly remembered that she had agreed to be on call today. She reluctantly picked up the receiver.

"Hello Grissom," she answered groggily.

"Hey Sara, did I wake you?" Grissom asked.

"It's my day off, what do you think?"

"I'm sorry, but I really need you to come in. Warrick called in sick today, and Nick and Catherine are already out on a case together."

"Can't you get someone from day shift? I heard their case load was pretty light this week,"

"They're worse off than we are; they just caught a quadruple homicide,"

Sara sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll come in. Where's the crime scene?"

He gave her the address.

"Thanks again, Sara."

"Yeah, sure. I'll be there within the hour," she assured him.

Sara hadn't really had a choice, but she knew that she would have gone in whether or not Grissom could have found someone from day shift to replace her; she didn't really have anything better to do, anyway.

_Except sleep._

XXX

"Hey Greg, got my results yet?" Nick asked the DNA tech.

"Uh, no, sorry, I'm running Sara's evidence first."

"I'm pretty sure I gave you my evidence before she did, Greg." Nick said, frowning.

"Yeah, you did."

"So, why are you running Sara's evidence first?"

"Because she scares me more than you ever will," Greg answered.

"What?"

Sara chose that moment to walk into the DNA lab.

"Greg, do you have my results yet?"

"No, Sara, I promise I'll page you when I get them."

Sara scowled. She was obviously tired, and didn't appear to be in a particularly good mood. She noticed Nick was standing beside Greg.

"Hey Nick."

"You okay, Sara?"

"Never better. Supposed to be my day off, but I got called in. I'm exhausted, I'm starving, and as you can see, I'm in a great mood," she snapped.

Nick's eyes widened with surprise at her reaction. He'd thought it was an honest question, demonstrating his concern for a friend; now he understood why Greg was scared of her.

"Uh, Greg, you just let me know when you get to my evidence, okay?"

"I will," he said.

As Nick walked away, he looked back to see Greg mouthing _Help me. _He chuckled as Sara glared at Greg and said something that suspiciously resembled _I saw that_.

XXX

"Hey, Grissom? I got those DNA results. Not very helpful though; they matched a, uh, Hank Peddigrew. It turns out he's the paramedic dispatched to the scene," Sara said, walking into the trace lab, where Grissom was looking at a sample under the microscope.

Grissom sighed. This case was going nowhere, fast.

"Alright, go talk to this Hank guy and find out what he might have touched and where he might have stepped inside the house."

Sara nodded and set off to find Hank. She was a little apprehensive about talking to him. Men usually didn't respond well to her because she was tall, had broad shoulders and had a no-bullshit attitude. They automatically labeled her a ball-buster and went into what she liked to call "cover their ass" mode. Maybe that's why her love life was lackluster, to say the least.

Luckily, Sara didn't have to look for Hank very long, as he was on shift, and he worked near the police department.

"Hank Peddigrew?" she asked the lean blonde man sitting at the back of an ambulance, apparently on break until he was dispatched to a new scene.

"That's me," he answered.

"I'm Sara Sidle, from the crime lab. I'm sorry to bother you on your break, but I have to ask you a few questions," she explained.

"Oh, uh, sure, but I already answered Captain Brass' questions, and I might have to leave any minute now."

"That's okay, my questions are a little different, and I assure you this will only take a few minutes."

"Alright, Ms. Sidle, go ahead."

"Call me Sara. I need to know exactly where you and your colleagues stepped when you walked into the house, Mr. Peddigrew."

"Okay, if I call you Sara, call me Hank. I took the most direct path to the bedroom the victim was in. When the victim was pronounced dead, I followed exactly the same path, because I knew you guys would be rolling in soon."

Sara smiled and pulled out a sketch of the crime scene and a pencil.

"Could you show me on this sketch?" she asked Hank.

He did as she asked.

"Thanks. I just have one more question; did you touch anything at the crime scene?"

"Nothing that wasn't either on the victim or in immediate proximity to the victim, which has already been mentioned in the report we sent you guys."

"Okay then, perfect. That explains your DNA at the crime scene, thanks."

"No problem, anything I can do to help," he said.

After a long pause, he shifted nervously.

"Uh, I hope I'm not being too forward, but I was wondering if you were seeing anyone at the moment," he asked.

Sara turned a little red.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone."

Hank smiled gratefully; he'd never been particularly good in these kinds of situations.

"Would you like to maybe grab a coffee some day? I'd ask you out to dinner, but I know you work the grave shift…and I'm totally over-talking right now, aren't I?"

Sara grinned and laughed; she thought he was pretty cute when he was nervous.

"Yeah, you are, but that's okay. I'd love to go out for coffee sometime."

They exchanged numbers, and parted when Hank was dispatched to a scene. Sara thought about what had just happened, and found that she was rather ridiculous; she really was a fickle woman, and it apparently didn't take much for her to become infatuated.

XXX

Sara was just about to clock out; her back hurt, her shoulders were stiff, and she wanted nothing more than to go home, eat, shower and sleep. When she got paged to Grissom's office, she forced herself to close her eyes and regulate her breathing. _What more could he possibly want? He'd better not be assigning me to another scene. _The door to Grissom's office was closed, which was unusual. She knocked, and a voice that wasn't her supervisor's told her to wait outside. Sara frowned.

A few minutes later, a tall slim man with little hair stepped out of the office with Grissom.

"Sara, this is Conrad Ecklie, day shift supervisor." Grissom said.

Sara extended her hand, but Ecklie didn't take it; instead, he nodded curtly, as if these formalities were keeping him from something more important. Sara smiled tersely and turned towards Grissom.

"You, uh, wanted to see me, Grissom," she said, mostly wanting to get away from Ecklie.

"Yes, step inside," he said. Then, speaking to Ecklie, "Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I'll handle it."

Sara raised an eyebrow, not sure that she really wanted any part of whatever was going on. She stepped into his office, sat in the chair in front of her desk, as usual, and waited for him to come in.

A moment later, Grissom slammed the door shut, and groaned, clearly upset and irritated. He sat behind his desk and folded his arms across his chest. Sara had no notion of what Grissom was like when he was angry; he evidently rarely lost his temper, but it was becoming clear that he could be just as intimidating as she was when he did.

"I apologize for Conrad. He's usually more civil than that," he said tersely.

Sara remained silent, as she really didn't want to get into a conversation on etiquette with Grissom at the moment.

"Okay. Fine, I'll tell you why I called you here. You're aware that Warrick called in sick today, correct?"

"Yeah, you mentioned that when you called me in."

"Well, Conrad told me that one of his subordinates had some interesting information on Warrick's whereabouts today."

Sara didn't like where this was going. She had already investigated him once, and if she was being honest, she didn't particularly like him, let alone care what he did when he wasn't at work. She was hoping that Grissom would just get to the point, though she knew it wasn't likely.

"Grissom, I'm not sure what that has to do with me."

"Sophia Curtis, from day shift, says that she was working a case at the Bellagio and that she saw Warrick there, Sara. I want you to look over the surveillance tapes to confirm it, that's all. I'd do it, but evidently, Conrad would accuse me of covering for Warrick if it turns out he wasn't there."

Sara sighed, wondering if there would ever be a time when she'd be able to say "No" to Grissom.

"Fine. I'll look over the tapes and tell you what I find. Anything else?"

"No," he answered. After a pause he said: "You can have tomorrow off, since you came in today. Uh, I also took the liberty of promoting you to CSI level 3; you'll see it on your next paycheck."

Sara was slightly surprised, but rather relieved; she could use the extra money, and the extra time off.

"Thanks. I'll get back to you soon," she promised.

XXX

Sara caught Grissom in the locker room, as he was about to leave.

"You're about to make this a very long night for me, aren't you?" he asked.

Sara nodded apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Grissom. He was there all day and most of the night."

Grissom sighed, and his shoulders sunk. He took off his glasses and frowned.

"Okay. I'll handle it from here. You should probably go home; you look like you're about to keel over."

Sara nodded and silently looked Grissom over. She noticed that he looked even more tired than she was; he had dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders were hunched forward, his hair was graying and he was starting to get crow's feet at the corner of his eyes. He was starting to show his age.

"Do you think maybe you should wait until tomorrow to speak to Warrick? I think you need to rest more than I do," she said, a note of consternation in her voice.

Catherine, who had discreetly walked into the locker room and had heard most of the conversation, closed her locker door and scowled.

"I have to agree with Sara on that one, Gil. Whatever it is, it can wait. You're in no condition to go running after Warrick." she interjected.

Grissom laughed humorlessly. He was outnumbered, and he knew this was one fight he wasn't going to win.

"Alright, alright. I'll go home. I need to think of how I'm going to reprimand Warrick anyway."

Grissom and Sara accompanied Catherine to her car. Grissom then accompanied Sara to her bus stop and waited for the bus with her; she was still thinking about buying the car Catherine had mentioned the first time they'd worked a case together. Grissom and Sara chatted for a few minutes, and once Sara was on her bus, he turned around, got into his car and drove home.

XXX

Sara woke up, feeling a little better, and fairly well-rested. She checked her clock. It was almost three in the afternoon, and she had finished working at around 1 that morning. The way she saw it, she had a few options. She didn't have to go into work later, so she could either sleep for a few more hours, or read for a couple of hours, or she could go out for breakfast and have a few drinks, or (and this was her favorite option), she could call Hank. She got out of bed, stretched a bit and snatched her cellphone from her nightstand. To her surprise, she had a couple of missed calls; they were from Greg and Hank.

Greg had left a message, asking if she wanted to join him and Nick for a few drinks. He had called about two hours ago. She decided that they'd probably already left and that it would be better not to call Greg back and decline. Hank hadn't left a message, but he had only called about half an hour ago, so Sara decided to try her luck.

"Hello?" Hank answered.

"Hey, it's Sara. You called?"

"Oh, hey! Yeah, I was just wondering if you'd like to go get that cup of coffee now. I can come pick you up if you'd like."

Sara hesitated for a moment; she wasn't particularly comfortable with having a man she had practically just met know where she lived. She reasoned that when Nick had helped her move, she hadn't known him much longer that she's known Hank. _But Nick is a co-worker, so this is different--right?_ Finally, Sara decided that she was just being paranoid.

"Sure. Give me half an hour, and I'll meet you downstairs, alright?"

"Sounds like a plan."

She gave him her address and hung up.

A smile crept onto her face; she hadn't felt this giddy in a long time.

XXX

Grissom had called Warrick into his office. The younger CSI knew that a summons to the supervisor's office was usually not a good thing.

"Ah, there you are Warrick. I have something to show you; I think you might be interested in this." Grissom exclaimed when Warrick walked into his office.

Grissom turned his laptop so that it faced Warrick.

He shouldn't have been surprised when he saw himself pop up on the screen; he'd seen Sophia as well, and he should have known that it would only be a matter of time before he got caught. It still didn't make the situation any easier to resolve.

"What were you thinking, Warrick? I warned you not to gamble on my time."

"I called in sick, Grissom, I wasn't on lab time."

"Yes, you were. You were scheduled to work; you have sick days to use when you're actually sick, not so that you can play hookie and go gambling."

"I don't know what to tell you, Griss."

Grissom's eyes widened in astonishment.

"That's it? You do realize that I should fire you for this, right?"

Warrick just shrugged his shoulders.

"As ridiculous as this sounds, you're on suspension without pay for a week. My suggestion for you, as a friend, Warrick, is for you to get some help." Grissom said.

Seeing that Warrick still didn't seem particularly concerned, he added: "You need to start taking this job more seriously."

"I do take my job seriously!" Warrick snapped, slamming his fist into Grissom's desk.

"Then prove it."

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Warrick was tempted to yell at whoever it was to go away and leave them alone, but it wasn't his place to do so; besides, Grissom already looked more than ready to do it himself. He shook his head and sighed.

"Enter."

Grissom gulped audibly as Terri Miller walked into his office.

_Just what I need right now._

"Hello, Dr. Grissom. I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all, Terri; we were just finishing," he assured her, then, speaking to Warrick: "Go home, think it over. I want you to call me tomorrow morning to tell me what steps you're planning on taking to rectify this situation."

Warrick nodded sullenly and walked out of the office.

Grissom forced a smile and directed his attention to Terri.

"What can I do for you, Dr. Miller?" he asked.

"Oh, this is a social call, Dr. Grissom; we parted on rather…awkward terms, and I was in the area, so I thought it might be a good idea to try and rectify the situation."

Grissom's smile became a little less forced; he thought it was probably worth a shot.

"I'd like a second chance."

"Yes, I thought you might."

She extended her hand and he took it; they walked out of his office together, smiling and elaborating their plans for the evening.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The buzzer sounded and Sara answered the door.

"I'll be right down, Hank."

She looked herself over in the mirror quickly, brushed some lint off her jacket and tucked her hair behind her ears. Satisfied, she grabbed her purse and made sure she had her keys, cellphone and a bit of make-up in case she needed to touch anything up. She headed down the stairs excited and giddy, deciding that she really needed to get out more often.

She smiled when she saw Hank standing at the entrance waiting for her. He looked a little apprehensive, and Sara couldn't help but think that he looked pretty cute when he was nervous.

"Hey! You look great!" he exclaimed.

"Thanks. You're looking pretty good too," she answered.

"So, going out for coffee is fine with you, right?" he asked.

"Yep. I'm going to need it if I'm going to be staying awake," she joked.

They walked to his car. He opened her door for her and Sara had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Still, she found that being corny suited him, and she blushed a little. She was beginning to think that Hank was definitely the kind of guy she could fall for.

"So, how have you been lately, Hank?"

"Pretty good; very busy though. Thanks for asking. How about you?"

"Same here. Haven't really been sleeping well, but other than that, I'm fine."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Any ideas why?"

"Uh, I've never really slept well, and I guess it's worse now because I'm not used to my apartment yet," Sara answered, forcing a smile.

"Oh, so you just moved in, then?"

"Yeah, uh, I actually moved to Vegas a few weeks ago."

"Really? I had no idea. Where are you from, then?"

"I transferred here from the San Francisco PD Crime Lab."

"Oh, I see…How do you like Vegas so far?"

"It has quite a different speed than San Francisco; I don't know if that's a good thing or not, yet," she answered, shrugging.

He smiled slightly as they reached the coffee shop.

XXX

"Did you have a place in mind, Terri?" Grissom asked his companion.

"What about that steakhouse we went to last time?"

"That's fine by me."

They walked to Grissom's car, and ever the gentleman, he opened the door for Terri, who smiled politely.

Once Grissom started driving, he worked up the courage to ask Terri a question he'd wanted to ask her since she invited him out to dinner.

"Why are you giving me a second chance?"

"Are you afraid that I have some kind of ulterior motive, Gilbert?"

"To be honest, yes I am."

Terri chuckled.

"Well, my last romantic endeavor didn't exactly work out, and despite the fact that you ruined one of my best dresses on our last date, I realized that I still really, really like you."

Grissom's face reddened.

"Uh, we're here," he stammered

XXX

"You know, some day, Hank, you'll have to tell me how you knew what I take in my coffee. It's a little scary," Sara told Hank, taking a sip of her coffee, which contained two milks, one sweetener and a shot of hazelnut.

"Maybe some day, I'll tell you," he teased.

She stared at him, frowning. After a moment, she smiled and laughed; she'd figured it out.

"It was Greg, wasn't it?"

Hank nodded sheepishly.

"I asked him a few questions about you before I asked you out. If you want my opinion, he's the one you should worry about," he said.

"Or maybe you should be worried about him, Hank," Sara said, smiling mischievously now.

"Nah, I figure that either you've already gone out and it didn't work out, or that if you were interested in him, you'd be with him instead of me right now."

"Well, I've never gone out with Greg."

"But you've gone out with a co-worker?"

"Yes."

"Warrick?"

"Definitely not."

"Your supervisor, Grissom, right?"

"Wrong again."

"Nick? I didn't think he was your type."

"You know, he's not that different from you, Hank," Sara said seriously.

"No, I suppose he isn't," Hank answered thoughtfully.

They were silent for a moment; Sara was getting tired of answering all these personal questions lately, so she decided to turn the table.

"How about you? I saw you ogling that partner of yours, Carrie, I think."

"Yeah, we did date for a little while. It didn't work out, but we're still good friends," he admitted.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

"Not at all. She was just a little, er…strong-willed, for my taste."

Sara let out a small laugh.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's fine. It's just that, you'll see I'm not exactly a doormat myself."

"Oh, I know," he said, with a slight smile. "Carrie just felt the need to prove it constantly. It got a little tiring after a while."

Sara nodded. She could understand that; at the San Francisco Police Department, there were more than a few female officers who felt the need for constant gratification, in order to prove to their male colleagues that they were just as tough and hard-working.

By force of habit, Sara checked her watch. Hank took this as a sign that he was boring her.

"Did you, uh, want to go back to your apartment, Sara?"

"Oh, no, no. Sorry, I'm just used to checking my watch constantly. I am getting a little hungry though."

"So am I. Did you have somewhere in mind?"

"I could really, really go for steak right about now."

"You just read my mind," Hank said, smiling.

"Nope. Carrie told me you guys usually went out for steak when you were dating," Sara answered, looking rather smug.

The smile on Hank's face faded.

"What? You interrogated my co-workers too!" she reminded him, keeping the same smug expression.

"Let's just go eat," Hank muttered.

XXX

Terri and Grissom's second date was going much better than their first. Not that that was particularly difficult to achieve.

Grissom had been quite the gentleman so far, and he'd politely enquired after Terri's well-being. His first mistake had been asking her about the case she'd worked on in Miami. At first she'd answered his questions, but she quickly had to tell him that she really didn't want to talk about work at the moment. He'd nodded and apologized. For now, they were just eating and silently enjoying each other's company.

At least, that's how Terri interpreted it. The truth of the matter was, however, that Grissom didn't really have much to talk about if it didn't involve work. He was trying to think of something, anything, really, to discuss with Terri. He didn't want to resort to talking about something mundane like movies or music, but he was quickly running out of options. He decided it would be better to wait for her to talk. He didn't have to wait for long.

Terri had figured out after a while that she'd have to be the one to get the conversation started again, so she decided to throw him a bone.

"So, Gilbert, tell me a little bit about yourself; where you come from, your childhood, what you like to do in your spare time, things like that."

"Well, I grew up in California, I had a fairly happy if lonely childhood. I conducted my undergraduate studies at UCLA and went to graduate school in Chicago," he answered, almost dismissively. He didn't particularly like to discuss his past.

Terri didn't prompt him to say more, and though he hadn't asked her to, she decided she might as well tell him a bit about herself as well.

"My father was in the Air Force, so I moved a lot when I was young and had trouble making friends. I was pretty lonely as well when I was a child. I never really got used to the idea of staying in one place, so I still tend to move around a lot."

Grissom smiled awkwardly, not knowing what he should reply.

XXX

Hank took Sara's hand a smiled as he led her into the steakhouse. _I must be doing pretty well if she wants to keep the date going,_ he thought.

The hostess seated them in a comfortable booth. It offered a certain degree of intimacy that Sara was grateful for. She looked over the menu, pondering what to get; of course, she wanted steak, but there were still a lot of options. She froze as she reached the top of the second page of the menu.

_What is __Grissom doing here? More importantly, who is he with?_ Sara asked herself. Hank was still focusing on his menu and hadn't noticed Sara's distress. Grissom hadn't seen her…yet. Sara decided it would be best just to ignore the fact that she could see him and forget that he was there.

"What are you thinking of ordering, Hank?"

"Why is it that women always want to know what their dates are ordering? Is there some kind of manual that tells you what kind of guy you're dating based on what he orders?" he teased.

Sara rolled her eyes.

"There probably is, but I haven't read it. I'm more interested in knowing what you're ordering so that I don't order the same thing; then we can share."

"Oh. In that case, I'm thinking I'll go with the rib-eye steak," he answered, a little flustered.

"Hmm…I'll have the porterhouse, then."

Sara looked over the drinks section of the menu just as the waitress came over.

"Can I start you off with something to drink?" she asked.

"Sure, I'll have a Guiness, please," Sara answered.

"Okay, sure. How about you, cutie?" the waitress asked Hank.

"Please don't call me that. I'll have a Rickard's white, thanks," he answered.

The waitress sighed and walked away to put in the orders.

"I'm impressed. She was pretty attractive," Sara said.

"I don't exactly appreciate being hit on when I'm on a date." Hank said, shrugging.

Sara nodded. The waitress came back with the drinks and took their food orders.

They got their food, and as they were both very hungry, conversation was scarce for the first few minutes. Then, inevitably, the moment that Sara had been dreading came.

"Hey, isn't that your supervisor?" Hank asked, pointing his chin towards the booth where Grissom was sitting.

"Oh, yeah. So it is. I hadn't even noticed," Sara said, a little too quickly for it to be believable.

"Do you want to go say 'Hello'?"

"What? Are you nuts? He's on a date!"

"Has he noticed you yet?"

"No, and I'd like to keep it that way, Hank," she warned him.

XXX

Grissom still hadn't said anything after Terri had spoken about her childhood. He'd just nodded. This was getting more and more awkward. He looked around the room; pretty much anywhere except directly at Terri, who was staring at him rather expectantly while she was eating her steak.

Then he saw Sara. He was ashamed to admit that he was rather surprised to see her on a date. Then again, it would probably surprise her to see him on a date.

Terri saw that Grissom's eyes were fixed now, and she followed his stare and saw Sara.

"Oh! Isn't that interesting! Sara's here on a date too," she exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically for Grissom's liking.

He nodded dumbly.

"Maybe we could invite her to the table," she suggested.

"Terri, I really don't think Sara would appreciate that,"

"Oh, I'm sure she wouldn't mind, Gilbert. Waiter!"

"Terri, please don't!"

The waiter came over, and Terri asked him to tell Sara and her date that they were invited to come sit with them.

Grissom shook his head in disbelief.

XXX

When the waiter came over and transmitted the message, Sara's first reaction was to politely decline. Hank, however, tried to talk her out of it.

"Sara, it's fine, he invited us."

"I somehow doubt that, Hank. I'm pretty sure this is her idea. I'm really not comfortable with this."

"Are you afraid that she had some kind of ulterior motive?"

"Definitely."

"Do I detect a note of jealousy?" Hank asked cautiously.

"No, Hank, I'm on a date with you and I would like to keep it that way."

"Then I guess you'll just have to follow me over there," he said, smirking.

Sara sighed, and reluctantly followed him as he moved towards the other booth.

XXX

Sara sat beside Grissom, and Hank sat beside Terri. There was an awkward silence, and Grissom and Sara stole nervous glances at each other while Hank and Terri ate contentedly. Somehow, Sara and Grissom had lost their appetites for the moment.

Hank decided to start the conversation.

"So, doctor Grissom, how long have you known Sara?"

Sara felt her face redden.

"Just call me Gil, Hank. I've known her for a little over a year now. We met at a forensic anthropology seminar."

Now it was Terri's turn.

"So, Sara, how did you meet Hank?"

"I was working a case, he was the first paramedic on scene, his prints came up, and I had to ask him a few questions about that."

"That's interesting," Terri said.

There was another silence.

Grissom decided to give it a shot.

"So, is this your first date with Sara, Hank?"

Sara was shocked that Grissom had actually asked such a question.

"We went out for coffee a little earlier today, but, yes, this is the first time we went out together."

"I see Sara has taken advantage of her day off, then."

Sara shot Grissom a glare. _Is he jealous? _she asked herself.

"Actually, I called her, Gil. I was just lucky that I caught her outside of work," Hank answered politely.

XXX

After another half hour of awkward and tedious conversation, it was finally time to pay the bill and leave. Hank and Gil had both offered to pay for their dates, and both Terri and Sara had thanked them and agreed to let them pay. They stood and walked out of the restaurant together, parting when they reached they respective vehicles, which happened to be parked side by side.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow, Sara."

"Yes, you will Grissom."

"It was nice meeting you, Hank."

"Likewise, Terri."

They got into their vehicles.

XXX

"I'm really sorry about that Hank."

"It's fine, I had a great time, Sara."

"I just wish we could've finished our date alone."

"Who says our date's over?"

Sara laughed.

"I do. I don't know what you had in mind, but I don't usually let men into my apartment on the first date," she said calmly.

She wasn't angry with him, but he needed to know that he was sleeping in his own bed tonight.

"Okay, that's fine. I can respect that," he answered earnestly.

They reached her apartment building, and he walked her to the door.

"Good night, Hank."

"Good night, Sara."

She gave him a peck on the cheek, smiled and turned, heading for the building.

"Sara," Hank called after her.

She turned to see him. He was smiling too.

"I'll be calling you for our next date soon," he said.

"Good," she replied.

Without adding anything, she went into the building, entered her apartment, and jumped into her bed without having changed. She was exhausted, and she had work the next day.

XXX

Grissom had dropped Terri in front of the hotel where she was staying.

"Good night, Terri."

"Good night, Gilbert."

He thought about asking her if they'd be going out again sometime, but he decided against it; he didn't think they would.

"I'm in Vegas for another week or so, Gilbert, in case you were wondering," she said before walking away.

_Is that a hint?_ Grissom asked himself.

Decidedly, he needed to get a better understanding of women if he was ever going to be in a successful relationship.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Grissom was sitting in his office, stroking his beard as he was looking over paperwork when Catherine, Nick, Warrick and Sara walked into his office. He looked up over the rim of his glasses. He was clearly puzzled as to why his team was there.

"Uh…yes? Can I help you?" he asked.

"It's evaluation day, Gil." Catherine said.

"Yeah, I know, Catherine, what do you think I'm doing right now?"

"Well, they're due in a few hours," Nick said.

"That's my point; the sooner you guys leave my office, the sooner I can focus on them and get them done."

"Uh, that's all well and good, Grissom, but we don't exactly feel like sitting around while you're doing the evaluations," Sara interjected.

"What are you talking about?"

"Griss, we need our assignments," Warrick said.

Grissom sighed and closed his eyes. He'd forgotten to hand out assignments at the beginning of the shift. He shuffled papers around on his desk, looking for the assignment slips.

"Okay, here we go; Nick, Catherine, double homicide; saddle in for a long night. Warrick, get a head start on this hit and run, I'll back you up if you need help. Sara, take this homicide," he said, handing out the slips.

Warrick headed out as soon as he had his assignment, Sara was smiling as she walked away, Catherine headed out of the office to get her kit, but Nick was frowning and stayed behind; he evidently wanted to talk to Grissom.

"Problem with your assignment, Nick?"

"If I go out on a double date with you and Terri, do I get to work solo?"

Grissom furrowed his brow.

"You're out of line, Nick. I don't know how you found out about that, but I assure you that's not why Sara is working solo," he said in a rather dismissive tone.

"Sorry, Grissom. It's just that I've practically been begging to work solo since I became a CSI level 3. Throw me a bone, will you?"

Grissom sighed. He took off his glasses and stared at Nick intently.

"You don't want Sara's 419, Nick. There's a reason I gave it to her specifically. There is going to be a lot of work involved, and I need someone who can stay focused for a couple of days."

"You know I can stay focused for a couple of days."

"I mean two days straight, Nick. Sara might have been smiling a few minutes ago, but when she realizes what the case consists of, she'll understand why I put her there."

Nick was pretty sure he understood; Sara was known for staying up entire nights reading if she couldn't fall asleep. Compared to the rest of the team, she needed relatively little sleep. But was this really a valid reason for letting her work solo?

Nick knew it was useless pursuing this argument with Grissom. He decided he'd talk to Catherine about it when they had a minute during the case. He left the office without saying anything more.

_How did he know about the date? __I'm pretty sure Sara wouldn't have told him. Or would she?_ Grissom asked himself. He didn't really know what kind of relationship Sara and Nick had formed since she came to Las Vegas. He realized that the excuse he'd given Nick was probably just that; an excuse, and a rather poor one at that. While it was true that the case would be difficult to solve, any one of his CSIs would probably be able to solve it. Making Sara go it alone was kind of a spur of the moment decision. _Maybe I just like her style better for this one. _He shook his head; he really needed to focus on these evaluations.

XXX

Grissom walked into the break room to find Sara staring at a textbook, frowning.

"Hey Sara, how's the case going?"

Sara shook her head slowly.

"I have no clue what I'm looking for, Grissom," she sighed.

"Well, let's talk this through, shall we?"

"Okay, well, the victim's name is Kaye Shelton. Her body was found up in the mountains, wrapped tight in a blanket. She was shot once, in the head. I like the husband for it, but the evidence is circumstantial, at best. I have to head down to autopsy in about an hour."

"Well, Sara, I don't think there's much you can do until Doc Robbins performs the autopsy."

"I guess not," she said, shrugging.

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Sara, don't let your emotions get in the way of the investigation."

"I'm not, Grissom."

"You are. You told me you liked the husband for this. You can't manipulate evidence to fit your theory."

"I'm not! I told you, the evidence is circumstantial! I'm just hoping to nail the guy with evidence collected during autopsy."

"Sara, be careful with your tone."

There was another awkward pause. Grissom broke the silence after a few minutes; he couldn't hold this question back any longer.

"Did you tell Nick about our double date?"

"What? No! Why would you even bring that up right now?"

She was frankly shocked at the abrupt change of subject.

Grissom opened his mouth to say something when his pager beeped. He checked the caller ID and sighed.

"I have to go. Ecklie is acting assistant lab director, and he wants my evaluations. Make sure you go to that autopsy. Do not confront the husband until we've discussed the results. Keep me posted."

He walked out of the break room. Sara slammed her fist against the table. Nick chose that moment to walk in for a cup of coffee.

"Whoa, is everything alright, Sara?"

"If you're wondering if the case is getting to me, the answer is yes. If you think it's because I'm working solo, you're wrong."

"Nah. I know you can handle working solo. I'm just concerned," he said earnestly.

"Really? Is that why you stayed behind to chat with Grissom after we received our assignments?"

"Sara, you're being bitter."

She knew he was right; she wasn't angry with him, she was angry with herself because she felt that she was letting Kaye Shelton down. There had to be physical evidence linking her husband to the murder.

"I'm sorry, Nick. I really am. This case is just getting under my skin, that's all."

He gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"I know, but don't worry. You'll figure it out. You're good, Sara."

She gave him a small smile.

"Thanks."

XXX

The autopsy hadn't brought up anything probative. Just some blue powder around the gunshot wound, which had been sent to trace. In fact, Grissom had estimated the time of death to be about 5 days prior to the discovery of the body; a time where Mr. Shelton was away on business. Any hope that Sara had of solving this case now rested in the house Mr. and Mrs. Shelton had shared.

From Sara's perspective, all that was standing between her and busting Scott Shelton was Grissom's express prohibition of her going to collect evidence from the Shelton residence.

"Are you kidding me, Grissom? There's definitely evidence in that house! Mr. Shelton could be covering his ass as we speak!"

"Sara, I can't allow you to go. You're putting the investigation at risk."

She glared at him.

"Then who will go and collect evidence?"

"I will."

"I'm coming along."

"I can't let you do that."

"Try and stop me."

"Sara, don't make me have to pull you off the case and suspend you."

Sara thought about that for a moment.

"Grissom, here are your options. Either I come with you, or I go myself after you suspend me."

Grissom's eyes widened; he couldn't understand why she was ready to go so far for this particular victim.

"Sara, you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment," he warned her.

"Yeah, you wouldn't know anything about that," she spat.

She turned and walked away.

"Sara!" Grissom shouted.

"What?" she hissed.

"If you let me do the talking, you can come along."

"No promises."

Realizing that he wasn't really going to get a better answer than that, Grissom sighed and shook his head.

"Let's go."

XXX

Ecklie stormed into Grissom's office. Grissom looked up from his paperwork, rolled his eyes and continued working.

"Gil, there's something I need to speak to you about."

"Give me ten minutes and you'll have my evaluations on your desk, Conrad."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it. Scott Shelton is filing a complaint against CSI Sidle."

"So? It'll be a moot point soon enough; we proved he killed his wife, Conrad. His ammunition was coated in blue Teflon, and it was an exact match to the blue substance found in his wife's gunshot wound."

"It'll still show up on her file."

"Look, Conrad, I have a lot of work to do; get to the point."

"I want you to demote her."

"Why? Because she has one complaint on her file? You can't be serious."

"I want you to demote her because she disobeyed you."

"I agreed to let her come along."

"As I understand it, she had to badger you about incessantly."

"Conrad, I'm not going to demote her. She did not disobey me. First, you went after Warrick and now you're going after Sara. I don't know if it's because you feel threatened by me, but you're trying manage my team for me and I want you to stop it."

Ecklie was speechless. It seemed to Grissom that for a moment, however brief, that he was trying to think of a scathing comeback. Ecklie eventually left Grissom's office without saying another word.

Grissom let out a sigh of frustration and kept working. He didn't like having to write these evaluations, not only because they were tedious and time consuming, but because this time in particular, if he was going to be honest, Warrick and Sara's evaluations were going to be less than spectacular. The worst part was that he was going to have to show them their evaluations and have them sign, stating that they had seen the evaluation.

_This is going to be another long night._

XXX

Sara had been surprisingly calm when she'd seen her evaluation. If she was being honest with herself, she had been expecting worse. She had been expecting to be suspended at the very least. She had signed without saying a word to Grissom. He had looked at her expectantly, as if he was sure she would blow up in his face and yell. She had been too emotionally exhausted to do anything but walk away.

As it was, she stood in the locker room, staring at herself in the mirror. She had a black eye and a split lip. She had provoked Scott Shelton, taunted him. She had crossed a line, but in a twisted sort of way, she had hoped that he would react the way he had; he had hit her. There had been no question about it after that; Scott Shelton was definitely capable of abusing Kaye.

_What would've happened if __Jim and Grissom hadn't been there to stop him? _Sara asked herself. She shook her head; she didn't want to think about that. There was no use in it.

Nick walked into the locker room, rousing Sara from her thoughts. He looked at her silently; he was obviously concerned. He could see that she had been crying.

"Sara, I heard what happened. If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen," he said in a tone that he hoped would be comforting.

To Sara, however it sounded rather patronizing.

"I made a stupid decision. I paid for it, not only in my evaluation, but by losing respect for myself. I'm just want to move on, now. Thanks for you concern, though," she replied, attempting a smile. It wasn't particularly convincing.

"I think there's a bit more to it than that, Sara."

"Please, Nick, just let me deal with this, okay? I appreciate that you want to help me, but I'll work it out. If you're intent on helping someone out, I think Warrick could use a friend right about now. He's had a pretty rough day too."

Nick nodded silently. He gave her a quick hug and left.

_He means well. _Sara told herself.

XXX

Warrick was in the parking lot, just about to get into his car when Nick showed up. He sighed, because he was pretty sure he knew why Nick was there, and he didn't really want to deal with that right now.

"Hey Warrick, we haven't hung out in a while; do you want to go grab a beer?"

"Hey, look, that sounds good, but I'm kind of tired right now. I just want to go home and sleep."

"Warrick, you've had a rough day, I understand that; but you and I both know that if I leave right now, you're going to go and find a casino and you're going to gamble. I'm trying to be a good friend, but it's hard when you're constantly being self-destructive!" Nick snapped.

Warrick sighed, and was silent for a moment.

"I guess you're right. I guess I could use a friend. Let's go get that beer, then."

"Okay, I'll meet you at our usual spot."

XXX

Grissom was in the break room, apparently searching through the textbooks. Sara's new sorting system was still confusing him a little.

"Gil, can I speak to you for a minute?" Catherine asked him.

"Uh, sure. If you want to talk about your evaluation, you'll have to bring it up to Ecklie, though, because I've already handed it to him."

"Oh, uh, no, no; I want to talk to you about something else."

Grissom turned to face her, and frowned.

"Okay, then. What do you want to talk to me about?"

"About Sara."

"I really don't think this is a conversation you should be having with me."

"You need to get her under control."

Grissom almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

"And how do you suppose I should do that? Reprimand her? Suspend her?"

"Well…yes. It's what any other shift supervisor would have done."

"Catherine, I think Sara's been through enough without me suspending her. Frankly, I think she's learned her lesson."

"But who's fault is that, Gil? She brought it upon herself!"

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying? She knows she made a mistake, and I'm sure she's not going to do it again."

"So that's it then. Because Gil Grissom thinks Sara learned her lesson, he's not going to take any action."

"Catherine, you're not getting the point. No action needs to be taken."

"What I'm hearing is that you have a soft spot for Sara."

"Excuse me? Are you forgetting that you're talking to your supervisor? I made my decision, it's final, and for the record, I would have made the same decision for any member of my team."

"That's an interesting statement; do you really think any other member of the team would've taunted a suspect until he struck her?"

Grissom went silent. He knew she was right, but in his mind, that didn't change a thing.

"Look, Catherine; the method was unorthodox, to say the least, but it ultimately worked. Now, unless you want to talk about something else, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, because I'm really busy."

Catherine thought about that for a moment.

"How are you and Terri doing?" she asked with a sly smile.

"Catherine!"

"Okay, okay. I'll back off. But in all seriousness, I think your case can wait until the next shift. I think you should go home and get some rest."

In the past few months, it seemed to Catherine that Grissom had aged more than he had in the least 5 years. His hair was getting greyer, he was constantly looking tired, and his shoulders seemed to be hunched. She felt a pang of pity for him.

Grissom sighed looked at the textbook in his hand and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess it can. I'll finish up a few things in my office, and I'll go home."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Catherine walked out of the room, and Grissom thought: _Why is she always so concerned with my personal life?_

XXX

Sara was blankly staring at the television screen, a beer in hand, when her phone rang. It was Hank.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sara. I heard about what happened at work today. How are you holding up?"

She sighed. _Bad news travels fast._

"I'm fine, really," she lied.

"Well, would you like to talk about it over dinner?"

"Oh, Hank, I'd like to, but I'm really not feeling up to it right now."

"If it's the going out you're objecting too, maybe we could just stay in. We don't even have to do anything. We can sit in total silence if you feel like it. I just don't think it's healthy for you to deal with this alone."

Sara couldn't help but smiled. Why was it that Hank always seemed to know how to make her feel better?

"Okay, you can come over. Let's watch a movie together."

"I'll be right there."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Hank arrived about half an hour after their phone conversation. He was holding a couple of bags; he'd stopped to get some junk food and had rented a movie.

"Hey, how are you?" Hank asked her.

"I'm fine, really."

"That doesn't look good," he said, gently pushing her hair to the side to get a better look at her black eye, "Did you put ice on it?"

"Yes, I put ice on it. Look, I'm fine, okay? I know you're concerned, but I'd like to just think about something else for now."

Hank nodded silently, still inspecting her eye. She took his hand off her face and turned her attention to the bags he was holding.

"Why did you go buy this stuff?" Sara asked him as she looked through the bags which contained chips, cookies and a couple of chocolate bars.

"Because I'm hungry and I assumed you didn't have any junk food. It's nice to indulge once in a while, though," he answered, smiling.

Sara couldn't help but smile; Hank was practically a woman at heart.

"Alright, then. What movie did you rent?"

A mischievous smile appeared on Hank's face.

"One of my favourites: _The Others_."

"That's great, because I love that movie too! I'm, uh, kind of a horror buff. How did you know?"

"Lucky guess."

"Greg?"

"Yes."

Sara rolled her eyes and put in the movie; they sat on her couch in silence for a little while, watching it and eating chips. Sara felt like she was a teenager again; stay-at-home date, junk food, awkward silences, the giddiness she felt when she was around Hank.

"This is quite a change from our previous dates," Sara remarked.

"Agreed, but I like this kind of change; it's cheaper and it's cozier," Hank replied, chuckling.

He shifted a bit closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

Sara blushed a bit.

XXX

Grissom had finally finished work for the day, and he was exhausted. He was looking forward to going home and getting a bit of sleep before coming back in tomorrow. He was driving home, and at the moment there was one thing bothering him.

_Terri._

He hadn't really heard from her since the double-date. She had told him that she would be in Vegas for a week, and he had tried to call her, but she hadn't answered her phone or returned his calls. He'd also tried e-mailing her after a few days, but he hadn't received a reply. Grissom might not understand women very well, but he knew enough to realize that if Terri really wanted to see him again, she would contact him.

That was probably what bothered Grissom the most about the whole situation; if Terri didn't want to date him anymore, that was fine, he understood, but he didn't appreciate being toyed with, and he didn't like the fact that this relationship was pretty much dictated by Terri's fancy.

Grissom shook his head; he had arrived home. He walked in and frowned; he was feeling terribly lonely. He tried to remember the last time he'd had anyone over, but he couldn't. He sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be getting to sleep just yet; he needed to find a distraction, fast.

He thought about reading, but found that he was too tired to do so. He thought about doing some crosswords, but found that he didn't really feel like it. He thought about just lying down and listening to some classical music, but that idea didn't appeal to him. The only thing he was seriously considering doing was turning on the TV and finding an old black and white classic movie.

XXX

"Man, that twist ending will never get old," Hank stated as the movie finished.

"Yeah, it's pretty great," Sara replied, yawning.

"You know, this movie kind of reminds me of _Turn of the Screw,_" he said.

"That's because the movie is in fact based on the Henry James classic," she replied, yawning yet again.

"You're tired; I think that's my cue to leave."

"Well, you don't have to leave."

"Uh, sorry?"

Sara rolled her eyes.

"I'm inviting you to stay the night; let's go to bed. Keep your hands to yourself, though," she teased him.

XXX

When Sara woke up the next morning, Hank was still sleeping soundly beside her. Not surprisingly, Hank had definitely not kept his hands to himself. In the end, it hadn't bothered Sara all that much; she felt that they were moving pretty fast, she didn't mind. Sara stretched and rolled onto her back.

Dating Hank was turning out to be a pretty good decision; sure he was a little corny, and on the surface he seemed almost too nice, but he genuinely cared about her and something about him made her feel at ease. It was a nice feeling; she hadn't felt that way in a long time.

Sara checked the time. It was 5:30 in the morning and they'd gotten to bed at around midnight. She wasn't sure if Hank was an early riser, so she decided to get up, get dressed, and make herself a cup of coffee. Hank hadn't woken up, so she picked up the book she had started a couple of nights ago.

Sara had been reading for about an hour when Hank walked into the living room, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and stretching.

"Good morning"

"Good morning. How long have you been up?"

"About an hour and a half."

"Wow, and I thought_ I_ got up early."

He sat down on the sofa next to her.

"Are you hungry?" she asked him.

"Starving."

"Uh, okay, what would you like to eat?"

"What've you got?"

"Er…I think I have what we need to make omelets, bacon and toast."

"You think?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, I, uh, don't eat in much."

"I kind of got that impression," he said, laughing, "Let's go check your fridge."

XXX

Grissom had finally gotten to sleep at around 3 am. At around 5 am, he had been woken up by the smell of smoke and a violent cough. It had taken him about thirty seconds to completely realize what was happening. His townhouse was on fire; he could see smoke coming into his room from under the door. Against his better judgment, Grissom put on a bathrobe, then grabbed a few articles of clothing and shoved them into a bag. He touched the door; it was warm, but not hot, so he opened it. He made a way through the smoke; the air seemed to be getting thicker by the second. He reached the front door and got out of the house. As he ran to his neighbor's house to ask them to call 911, it occurred to him that he had never actually seen these people before. When he knocked, a groggy looking man who looked to be about 25 years old answered.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yes, I'm very sorry to be bothering you this early in the morning, but my house is burning down; could you call 911 please?"

It took the man a few seconds to process what Grissom had just told him. When it registered, his eyes widened, he looked over to Grissom's house and mumbled something that sounded like "holy crap". Then he nodded and called 911. He invited Grissom inside and offered him a cup of coffee. Grissom gratefully accepted, and they both sat in silence as they waited for the Fire Department to arrive.

Grissom sighed as he watched his house go up in flames.

XXX

It turned out that Sara did in fact have the ingredients needed to make omelets for two. At the moment, however, she probably had more omelet in her hair than on her plate; Hank had started a food fight. She had ended it. Hank had ketchup and hot sauce stains on his white undershirt, and a piece of egg dangling from his bangs. They were both grinning like idiots.

"I have to go to work in about an hour," Hank said.

"You could always play hookie," Sara teased.

"Tempting, but if I don't go in, there's a chance someone might die."

Sara wondered for a second what it would be like saving lives as opposed to piecing together the mystery of someone's death. She decided that they were both pretty important responsibilities.

"I know, I was just teasing."

Hank checked his watch.

"How long have we been dating?" he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Uh, about 6 months now."

"Right, so – and I'm just throwing this out there- do you think it would be too early to move in together?"

Sara's eye widened, she opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. She frowned.

"It depends; would I be moving to your place, would you be moving here, or would we be moving into a new place altogether?"

"Uh, I hadn't really thought of that. Do you have a preference?"

"Well, I still have at least 6 months on this lease, so…"

"Okay. I don't mind moving here."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just give me a couple of weeks to get organized."

"Uh, yeah, of course."

He smiled at her, glanced at his watch and got up from the table. A few minutes later he'd reappeared from the bedroom, in his paramedic's uniform.

Sara thought he looked quite handsome.

"You're working tonight, right?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I'm not sure when my next day off is, but I'll let you know."

He nodded and looked her over. She had bed hair, she was wearing a Winnie the Pooh bathrobe, faded pink slippers, and she looked tired. Not to mention she still had that black eye.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked her.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better now," she assured him. It was the truth.

"Okay. I should head for work."

"Okay."

They kissed, lingering perhaps just a little longer than what might be considered a casual kiss.

He smiled, and was out of the door.

Suddenly, Sara felt quite alone. She began to wash the dishes, and was grateful she was that Hank would be moving in soon.

XXX

Catherine arrived at the lab about half an hour early; she had a few things to organize before the start of her shift.

Walking past Grissom's office, she noticed that he was sitting at his desk. This wasn't unusual in and of itself, but she also noticed that he looked more tired than usual, if that was possible.

She knocked on the door to his office and let herself in.

"Hey, Gil,"

"Hey Cath,"

"Is everything alright? You seem even more exhausted than usual,"

"I didn't sleep well last night,"

"Oh,"

That's when she noticed the duffel bag beside his desk.

"How long have you been here?"

He glanced at his watch.

"About six hours,"

"So, let me get this straight: you're _sleeping _here, now?"

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"My house burned down early this morning. This is the only place I had to go to."

"Oh, well that's different."

Grissom's eyes narrowed.

"Well, I have a spare bedroom you could stay in for a while if you want to; it's kind of small, but I think you'd be comfortable," Catherine offered.

Grissom was touched by Catherine's generosity.

"Really?"

"Really. I'll even help you put whatever you've got left into storage."

"Uh, that won't be a problem."

"Wow, it was that bad, huh?"

"Yeah. It was an electrical fire; it started in the walls."

Catherine pat him on the shoulder and got up to leave his office.

"Thanks again for your offer, Catherine."

"Hey, what're friends for?"

XXX

Sara was frowning and seriously considering slapping Greg.

"Will you shut up and just give me my results?" she snapped.

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Either you're bi-polar or you really didn't get laid last night. I swear earlier you were smiling and you looked like you were in such a good mood that I half-expected you to start whistling!"

She glared at him. Greg was pretty much the last person she wanted to talk about her sex-life with.

Nick walked into the DNA lab, saw the look on Sara's face and asked: "Whoa, what did Greg say to piss you off this time?"

"When she walked in, I said 'Looks like someone got laid last night.', that's all!" Greg answered defensively.

"Greg!" Sara yelled.

Nick started laughing.

"Sara, it's really not that big a deal."

"I just don't think whole lab needs to know that Hank I slept together last night!"

"So, Greg and I are the whole lab?"

"Nope, but she's sure making the news spread faster," Warrick answered from behind Sara.

"Yeah, but I don't think the guys in ballistics heard her," Catherine added as she walked in.

Sara's face turned a rather dark shade of red.

Naturally, Grissom chose this moment to come into the DNA lab.

"There you all are. I have some more assignments for all of you."

They groaned collectively; they were pulling a double.

After the assignments were handed out, Grissom asked Sara to stay behind.

"How are you?" he asked her, looking at her eye.

Her eye was healing fast; the bruise would most likely be gone in a couple of days at the most.

"I'm, uh, feeling a lot better, thanks for asking."

"That's good to know. From what I hear, things with Hank are going pretty well," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Sara blushed.

"Yeah, he's actually moving in soon."

Grissom nodded.

"Good for you. I'm glad he makes you happy, and I'm glad he was there for you."

Sara was surprised that Grissom had dropped his guard, however momentarily.

"Thanks. I'm, uh, sorry your house burned down."

Grissom just shrugged.

"It's nice of Catherine to let you stay in her spare bedroom."

"Yes, not many people would want their boss living with them, even if it's just for a little while."

Then they stood there, feeling awkward around each other once again.

"I better get to my crime scene. Detective Vega doesn't like to be kept waiting." she finally said.

"Yeah, sure. I'll, uh, talk to you later." Grissom said.

Grissom's phone rang as she walked away.

Just business as usual.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Grissom was woken up by someone poking him in the shoulder repeatedly. Through sleep-blurred eyes he saw a very young girl, and he assumed that this was Lindsay. He sat up and wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

"Mommy, mommy! There's an old man sleeping in the guest bedroom!" Lindsay shouted.

Grissom heard Catherine laughing; judging by the smell of bacon wafting through the air, she was in the kitchen.

"It's okay, Lindsay, it's just mommy's friend from work. He's staying here for a little while."

Grissom smiled and held out his hand.

"Hello, Lindsay, I'm Gilbert."

She shook his hand.

"Hi, Mr. Gilbert."

"How old are you now, Lindsay?"

"I'm 7," she answered proudly.

"Wow, you're growing fast. The last time I saw you, you were 4 years old."

Catherine walked into the room.

"Linds, you want some pancakes and bacon?"

"Oh, yes please!"

"Well, go and get 'em, they're ready."

Lindsay ran to the kitchen.

"What would you like for breakfast, Gil?"

"Just some toast and coffee please."

"Sure thing. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes, thank you. By the way, didn't you tell Lindsay I was coming?"

"No, I didn't get the chance; I was so busy at work and by the time we got home, she was sleeping."

"Oh, okay," he said. Then he frowned. "Do I really look that old?"

Catherine laughed.

"You've aged a bit in the past year, but you're far from being an old man. Now, come and eat breakfast," she said, patting his shoulder.

XXX

_A few weeks later_

Sara woke up, feeling slightly disoriented; her alarm was ringing, but she still wasn't sure what time it was.

Hank's groan snapped her back into reality. _Crap._

"Sorry, Hank. This whole concept of living with someone who doesn't share my schedule is still new to me."

He put a pillow over his face and mumbled into it.

It was the third time in a week that she'd forgotten to turn off her alarm and woken Hank up at 11pm. Since he had to wake up at 4am to go to work, he needed all the sleep he could get.

Sara pulled the pillow off his face, kissed his forehead, then hopped in the shower, got dressed, got a few things together and snatched a cup of coffee on the way out. Her "morning" routine took 20 minutes at the most.

"Bye babe," she called out.

"Have a good day at work. Love you!" Hank answered.

Sara froze for a second, not sure what to say. She decided to pretend she hadn't heard him; if he brought the subject up later, they could discuss it, but she didn't have the time to do so right now.

On the way to work, she wondered how Grissom was dealing with living at Catherine's. He certainly wasn't the kind of person who welcomed change, and losing his house was certainly a drastic one.

XXX

"Hey Gil, what've you got for us today?" Catherine asked, the rest of the team standing expectantly behind her.

"Uh, let me see- Nick, take this trick roll. Warrick, Catherine, take the 419 at the Bellagio. Sara, take this hit and run; I'll join you when I finish up here."

Everyone nodded and headed off to their respective cases.

XXX

Sara's hit and run wasn't exactly what she'd expected it to be. When she got there, she saw that there was an ambulance in a ditch and a minivan wrapped around a tree. Sara looked for the first officer at the scene. She found him taking a statement from a man wearing a paramedic's uniform. She didn't recognize him. She waited until the officer was done, then approached him.

"What the hell happened here?"

"The paramedics were helping the poor soul who was in the minivan when they got sideswiped."

"Survivors?"

"Well, the one I was talking to, Jimmy, was the ambulance driver. He got off easy; most of the damage was done to the rear of the ambulance. There were two paramedics in the back; a Carrie Black, and a Hank Peddigrew."

Sara's heart skipped a beat. _Hank was supposed to be in bed, sleeping. He wasn't supposed to be at work until 4._

"Uh, okay, but you still haven't answered my question."

"Oh, right, sorry. Carrie was DOA. Hank is still alive, but he's in coma. Hard to tell who was luckier," the officer answered, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay, well, if that's all, I'll uh, just get to work now," Sara said.

Sara wanted answers, and she wanted them now. She found Jimmy; the poor guy looked just as distraught as she felt.

"Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Uh, you're Sara, right? Hank's girl. He talks about you a lot. Yeah, sure, go ahead and ask me what you need to."

Sara closed her eyes and collected her thoughts for a moment. It was taking all of her self-control not to scream and drive-off to Desert Palm Hospital, which she assumed is where they were taking Hank.

"Yes, I'm Sara. I just wanted to know why Hank was at work. He was only supposed to come in at 4."

"Oh, Eddie called in sick, so we were short-staffed. Carrie called him at around midnight."

Eddie was Hank's best friend, and he was surely going to be kicking himself over this.

"Do you know if Carrie's alright? No one will tell me anything," Jimmy said, genuinely worried.

Sara took in a deep breath and put her arm on his shoulder, then shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy."

He just nodded and started to sob silently.

Sara walked away; she felt overwhelmed. It was all too much to handle.

When Grissom drove up, she was sitting on the curb, near her car, staring at the ground.

"Sara, are you okay?"

"No, not really. I need to get to Desert Palm, now."

"Why, are you hurt?"

Sara stared at him, dumbfounded, then realized that he had just gotten there and had no idea what had happened.

"No, no, Hank was in that ambulance. He's in a coma. I need to go."

Grissom looked rather shocked as the gravity of what she had just told him sunk in.

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, go, go! Did you wait here just to tell me that?"

Sara just shrugged dejectedly, got into her car and drove off.

XXX

Sara paced around in the waiting room and she could see that she was aggravating a woman whose young daughter was asleep in her arms, but she didn't care. She paced when she was anxious, and she certainly had a reason to be anxious right now.

She wasn't exactly sure what she could be doing right now, but she wanted to feel like she was doing something productive.

Finally, a doctor came up to her, looking rather flustered.

"It's a little early to tell for sure, but I think I have some good news for you. He's responding to auditory stimulus."

"Okay, so what does that mean?"

"Well, statistically, comatose patients who show brainwave activity when they're presented with an auditory stimulus have a higher chance of coming out of the coma."

"Oh, that's great news!"

"Now, I don't want you to get your hopes up just yet. He has a long way to go."

"Of course. Thank you. Is there anything else?"

"No, you can go see him now. In a few hours, we'll try to see if we can get him a CT scan and an MRI, to see if there's been any brain damage. I'll be sure to keep you updated."

"Okay then, thanks again."

XXX

Sara wasn't quite sure how long she'd been at the hospital. She must have fallen asleep sometime, because the nurses were about to change shifts. She sat up and stretched. The monitors were still making their steady beeping sounds, and Hank was still breathing softly and regularly. A kind nurse had briefly explained to Sara how to read the various monitors, and it had reassured her considerably when she had realized that Hank's vital signs were relatively normal.

She was absentmindedly tracing circles on the back of Hank's hand when Grissom walked into the room. He looked uncomfortable, and Sara realized that he probably felt like he'd interrupted an intimate moment.

"Hey, Grissom. You didn't have to come here, you know."

"I wanted to bring you some coffee, and keep you company; you shouldn't have to deal with this alone."

Sara accepted the cup of coffee he handed her, but she remained silent. She was touched that he would come to the hospital just to be with her while she stayed by Hank's side. Suddenly, she realized that either Grissom had handed the hit-and-run case to someone else, or he had solved the case.

"Did you figure out who did this?"

"Yeah; a 17 year old kid driving his mom's sedan. He was scared out of his mind, but he showed up at PD and admitted everything. Evidence corroborated his story."

"Was he injured?"

"No, he's fine."

"That's good."

They were silent for a few minutes.

"Sara, you've been here for over 12 hours. Go home and rest for a while; I can stay here."

"And if he wakes up?"

"I'll tell him where you are, and I'll call you immediately."

Sara was exhausted, and going home was a very appealing thought.

"Okay. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Take as long as you want."

XXX

Not surprisingly, Grissom hadn't called her.

When she got to the hospital, she was surprised to see Greg and Grissom engaged in an intense conversation. She paused to observe them from the doorway, and she smiled. Greg idolized Grissom, and it was nice to see that Grissom didn't mind regaling him with the latest news from his entomological journals.

She walked into the room, hating to have to interrupt their conversation.

"Hey, Greg."

"Hey. I'm sorry about what happened."

"Yeah, me too."

"Well, I think I'd better get back to the lab. Sara, I don't need to see at work for a couple of days, okay?"

"Thanks, Grissom," she called after him as he left.

"I think I'll go too," Greg announced. He seemed a little dejected.

"You don't have to leave on my account, Greg. You're Hank's friend."

"I'd still rather leave."

"Greg, I'm sorry I've been rough on you. I didn't mean any of it."

"Really?"

"Really."

Sara walked over to Greg and gave him a hug. He walked back to the chair he'd been sitting in.

Greg left an hour or so later; Grissom needed him in the DNA lab.

XXX

A few hours later, Eddie walked in the room. When he saw Sara, he turned around and started to leave.

"Eddie!" she called out.

He turned to face her, but looked at his shoes, his hands inserted firmly in his coat pockets.

"I'm really sorry, Sara."

"For what? For being sick? None of this is your fault."

"So why do I feel guilty as hell?"

"Human nature", she answered, shrugging. "Come on, I think Hank would appreciate it if you came to see him."

"Okay, but I can only stay a few minutes."

XXX

Hank's doctor walked into the room and greeted Sara rather cheerfully.

"It's finally time for Hank to get that CT scan and that MRI now. These tests should be able to give us a better idea of what we're dealing with."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, Ms. Sidle. These tests are going to take a couple of hours though; I suggest that you go home and get some rest. I'll have someone call you when Hank is back in his room."

"Alright, I'll go do that, then. Thanks."

XXX

Sara came back about an hour later, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. Hank wasn't back in his room yet, so she just sat in one of the chairs in the room and tried to read. She managed, with great difficulty, to focus on the page in front of her.

Yet another hour went by, and Sara was just about to put down her book and go inquire about Hank's whereabouts at the reception desk when she heard a gurney being rolled down the hall. Sure enough, it was Hank's doctor and a couple of orderlies bringing him back to his room.

Sara tried to remain calm and collected, but she was sure that it wasn't hard to tell that she was worried half to death.

The doctor cleared his throat and pored over the charts on is clipboard. Just when she thought he was going to turn away and leave, he sighed and looked at her.

"Well, his vital brain functions are completely normal. There's a good chance he'll come out of this coma, although it's difficult to say when that will be. There was just one abnormal area; there appears to be a lesion on his right amygdala, possibly cause by a piece of debris from the accident," the doctor said, frowning rather ominously.

"Uh, okay, what exactly does that mean?"

"Well, again, we won't know for sure until he wakes up, but there's a good chance he won't be the same man he was before the accident."

Sara took a moment to process this information.

"Okay," she said, inhaling deeply. "In what ways?"

"In the majority of cases, one of two things happens: Since the amygdala is used in processing emotions, patients who've had their amygdala compromised are prone to either outbursts of anger or of sadness. There's a chance he's going to be emotionally unstable."

This wasn't exactly what Sara had expected. She'd expected to hear that maybe, Hank would be confined to a wheelchair, that maybe he'd be blind, or deaf, that maybe he'd be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life. She wasn't sure which of these possibilities was worse. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about what the doctor had just told her; in fact she wasn't sure she had quite processed it yet.

"I can see that you need a bit of time to think about this; I have to go see other patients now, but if you have any questions, just ask one of the nurses, and they'll know where to find me. I know this is a lot to handle," the doctor said, patting her gently on the shoulder before walking out of the room.

_Relax. It's going to be okay, just take deep breaths. There's a chance he'll be fine. There's a chance he'll still be the Hank you love._

_Love._

She remembered not saying the words this morning, and a sudden wave of shame and guilt washed over her.

She sat back in the chair beside his bed. She stroked his hair for a few moments, then leaned in and whispered _I'm sorry. _

XXX

Grissom hadn't seen or heard from Sara in almost 24 hours, so he figured that it was time to go check in on her; he was sure that she was still at the hospital and hadn't slept since the last time he saw her.

When Grissom walked into Hank's room, Sara was still sitting by his side, holding his hand and absent-mindedly tracing circles on his palm with her thumb.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Oh, hey Grissom."

"You've been here since I left, haven't you?"

"No, actually; when they did his MRI and CAT scan, I went home to sleep for a bit."

"Oh, Have they told you anything about the results of the scans yet?"

"Yeah, actually. His doctor told me as soon as he wheeled him in."

Grissom waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he prompted her.

"What did he say?"

"That Hank might not be the same person when he wakes up. That he might have sudden outbursts of violence or depression…" her voice broke, and Grissom could see tears welling up in the corner of her eyes.

Not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into a hug. They stayed like that for a few minutes, when Sara pulled away and smiled sheepishly at him.

"No long ago, that would've made my day."

Grissom stared at his feet, shifting uncomfortably.

"Sara, you'll get through this," he said, in a not-so-subtle change of subject. "Please don't shoulder this burden by yourself. If you need someone to talk to, well, I'm here to listen. This – stuff – isn't exactly my strongpoint, but I'll try."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"Also, as far as I'm concerned, you have next week off."

"Duly noted," she replied.

Grissom looked at his watch.

"I have to get back to the lab. I'll get Greg to swing by in a couple of hours."

"Sure."

Grissom looked at Sara, concern written all over his face.

"Hang in there."

"Yeah. Yeah, I will."


End file.
